


Under the Mistletoe

by thesecretdetectivecollection



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, cute holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 03:25:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9365906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesecretdetectivecollection/pseuds/thesecretdetectivecollection
Summary: Whoever put up the mistletoe was clearly an evil genius, because the things actually moved.Stevie and Carra entered the room to hushed giggles and disconcerting quiet. Everyone was staring at them, eyes shining in anticipation, and Stevie knew instantly what had happened.“Carra?” He asked slowly. Carra looked up, hoping against hope… but no, it was exactly as they’d feared.“Happy Christmas, Stevie,” he said in the tragic tone of a man walking to his doom.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day this year to give as a present. I'm just getting around to posting it on here, so enjoy this late, horrendously out of season present!

Nobody was quite sure who did it, really. But over the course of December, little decorations began appearing around Melwood. It was all very tasteful, little Christmas trees in corners, decorated prettily with different ornaments, tinsel along the banisters. A little reindeer sitting in middle of the conference room table where they went over tactics.  
  
Nobody minded, it boosted morale and the lads actually quite enjoyed it.  
  
It wasn’t until a week before Christmas that little sprigs of mistletoe found their way around the building. Crouchy was the one to notice, mostly because they were right around eye level for him. When he pointed it out, it became all out war to see who could avoid being caught the longest.

And whoever started the trend was clearly an evil genius, because the things _moved_. As soon as the lads began figuring out which hallways to avoid, they’d move, and there’s be new trouble afoot. Poor Xabi tended to get lost in thought, ended up having to kiss nearly every single teammate–and the gaffer, to boot! He was a good sport about it, pecked everyone’s cheeks with a shrug, a laugh, and a roll of his eyes. The gaffer looked… surprised, but accepted it with a smile when Sami explained the joke. Sami could explain anything away—there was just something about the man.  
  
Most everyone’d been had, really, by the time the 22nd rolled around. Everyone but their captains, that is. Stevie and Carra had grown up sharing a locker room with the Spice Boys–they’d forged an alliance against all team pranks back in 2000, when they’d both been drawn in by Redders in an unfortunate incident involving chicken feathers and marmalade. Macca and Robbie still sent them the odd text about that, actually.  
  
So they adapted pretty easily to the whole mistletoe thing, made a habit of checking doorways and dimly lit hallways, making sure they weren’t the first to enter a room. They’d saved each other a handful of times each, including one where Jamie had just grabbed a handful of Stevie’s shirt and pulled him back from the doorway, narrowly avoiding having to kiss Sami. Stevie had fallen back against Jamie’s chest, and they looked oddly comfortable that way.

“Thanks, Carra,” he’d said gratefully. 

“Not a problem, Stevie.”

The next day, Jamie was on the verge of getting caught, when Stevie noticed. He sprinted past the lads he was talking to, and pushed Jamie away from the doorway.

“Not like kissing me would’ve been the worst thing in the world,” Dirk said grumpily.

“Sorry, mate, it’s a matter of pride. Not getting caught now,” Jamie said. “Thanks Stevie.”

“Course, J. What are best mates for?”

  
So of course, as it happened, it was Christmas Eve when they finally let down their guard. They’d just had a strategy meeting with the boss and they were talking to each other in rapid-fire Scouse about how to implement Rafa’s strategies. They were caught up in the discussion, gesturing animatedly, and so they lingered a bit behind the rest of the group, which meant they were the last ones into the dressing room.  
  
Doing the door to the dressing room was a dirty trick, Stevie swore later. It made the game completely unwinnable, because there was only the one entrance and they couldn’t exactly avoid the place. The pranksters, which included one Lucas Leiva, former captains’ pet, whose perpetually innocent face would never fool anyone again, laughed and explained that they’d won anyway, by escaping so long.  
  
They entered the room to hushed giggles and disconcerting quiet. Everyone was staring at them, eyes shining in anticipation, and Stevie knew instantly what had happened.  
  
“Carra?” He asked slowly. Carra looked up, hoping against hope… but no, it was exactly as they’d feared.  
  
“Happy Christmas, Stevie,” he said in the tragic tone of a man walking to his doom.  
  
Jamie sighed. “Right then, Stevie-boy, give us a kiss, then.” He offered up his cheek.  
  
Stevie had a cheeky glint in his eye that had Jamie’s stomach sinking. He stepped towards him, grabbed his face in both hands, and leaned up just slightly, kissing him square on the mouth. And it wass a proper kiss as well, not one of those chaste pecks.  
  
The lads lost their collective minds, shouting and clapping and hollering. At least one voice started singing _All I Want for Christmas Is You._ Badly, of course, but the point came across.  
  
Stevie pulled away and pecked at Jamie’s cheek.

“Happy Christmas, J,” he said grinning.

“And how long have you been waiting for that chance, then, lad?” Jamie teased, crooked grin pulling at his mouth.  
  
“All me life, Carra,” Stevie responded mock seriously. One of the lads pretended to wipe away tears. Lucas stood and gave them a one man standing ovation.

  
  
“Right, show’s over, lads, you’ve had your fun,” Stevie said in his captain voice, “all you should be thinking about now is Stoke and how we’re going to beat them. For the next few hours, at least, before you go home to your families.” He and Jamie strode over to their lockers and got dressed, same as always, no awkwardness between them after the kiss.  
  
The lads gazed at them admiringly. _That_ was the pinnacle of friendship, they think.  
  
—

  
Stevie was getting ready for bed when he heard a faint strain of music.

 _Baby, all I want for Christmas is you._  
  
“Well played, J, how much did you pay him to move the mistletoe?”

“No idea what you’re talking about, Stevie,” Jamie said as he walked over to him. He pushed him over onto the bed.

“And why would I wanna kiss _you_ , Gerrard?” He asked, grinning as he leans down over him.

  
Stevie laughed and wrapped his arms around Jamie’s neck, pulling him down for another kiss, slower, dirtier, the sort of kiss that wasn’t suitable for public viewing, the kind that involved inappropriate sounds and tongue and teeth, just enough to add some heat to the sweet.  
  
“Happy Christmas, Stevie,” Jamie whispered lowly into Stevie’s ear.

“Happy Christmas, Jamie.”  
  
They got into to bed and Stevie turned out the lamp.  
  
  


“Ten quid.”

“That cheap?”

“Worth a hundred times the price. Just the looks on their faces…”

“Priceless. And you giving me your cheek, that was a good move.”

“Experience, Stevie. Experience with pranks, experience with you, keeps me a step ahead. Keeps a lad like you interested.”

“Oh, shut up and come here, you. Honestly, J, why d'you even bother wearing clothes to bed when you _know_ …” Stevie says as he wrestles Jamie’s shirt over his head.

“Gotta make you work for it, love. _Unwrap your present_ , and all that.”

“Right. That was awful, and as punishment, you can wait until tomorrow, same as the rest of my presents.”

**Author's Note:**

> And yes, they're both secretly jealous little bastards who don't want their man kissing someone else, even if it's just a mistletoe peck.


End file.
